


The Dance Teacher

by fhartz91



Series: Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2014 [20]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Romance, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has a crush on his dance teacher, which is turning out to be problematic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dance Teacher

The arm wrapped around Blaine’s waist makes him feel the safest he’s ever felt, the hand holding on to his gentle but secure, and the smiling eyes stealing glances between turns…Blaine can look into those eyes forever.

That poses a small problem, but Blaine refuses to think about that right now.

A slow, easy waltz plays from the speakers of a Bose stereo hidden in the corner as they glide around the wood dance floor, trading shy smiles along with something else unspoken. They alternate leading and following, making the switch effortlessly from one to the other without missing a step. They seem to know each other’s bodies well enough, can read each other’s signals without too many questions. When Blaine feels a slight pressure on his hip, he knows to flip positions and adjust his stance. When his hand is squeezed, he pauses on the back side of the beat and changes direction.

Since his first class, when a frustrated Blaine slipped his hand into Kurt’s and Kurt put his arm around him, instructing him on how to correctly lock his frame, the two have moved together with such a fluid synchrony, it’s as if they were _meant_ to dance with one another.

Blaine doesn’t miss how this is the longest song of the evening, how Kurt’s eyes seem to light up when he catches Blaine looking at him, how his cheeks flush with a hint of pink and his lips quiver when his smile grows.

Blaine has imagined feeling those lips quiver against his own more times than he should have.

The song enters its final coda, and Blaine’s heart speeds up, praying that somehow, this time, the music will bleed into an additional strain, and he and Kurt can continue dancing another minute…or five…or ten.

A half hour, tops.

When the music stops, Blaine feels like his whole world is about to end.

Blaine feels Kurt’s chest heave against his own, feels Kurt’s heart pound inside his rib cage, and it’s like they’re sharing a single square of time and space. It stretches on a breath too long, especially with other eyes watching them. Kurt pulls out of Blaine’s embrace, acknowledging him with a flourish of his outstretched arm.

“And that, class, was a perfect Cross-Step Waltz,” Kurt says. “Congratulations, Mr. Anderson. You are officially an Arthur Miller graduate. Take a bow.”

Blaine bows slightly, accepting the polite but enthusiastic applause that travels from student to student standing in a ring around them. A few of the students look at one another with knowing grins, some whisper quietly behind their hands and giggle.

It’s no secret that Blaine Anderson seems to be Kurt’s favorite pupil.

“So, that’s the end of this session,” Kurt says, clapping his hands together. “Enrollment for the next session starts Monday. You know you all want to come back.”

 _I do_ , Blaine thinks, looking down at his hands folded in front of him, trying to hide his smile.

“Okay, guys,” Kurt continues, waving to the students gathering up their coats and purses, bending in for air kisses and brief hugs, “you’ve all done well. You should feel so proud. Go forth, and when you audition for _So You Think You Can Dance_ , tell them Kurt Hummel sent you.”

Blaine hangs back, stalling, pretending to re-tie his shoes and pat down every pocket for his keys until the last student walks out of the studio, leaving him and Kurt alone.

Kurt knows Blaine will be there when everyone else is gone. He has since their first class together, chitchatting for the few minutes it takes for Kurt to lock up and head out.

“I can’t believe this is our last class,” Kurt says, handing Blaine his coat off the hook by the door and helping him into it. “The last eight weeks have just flown by.” Kurt turns Blaine to face him, fiddling with his lapels and straightening his red cashmere scarf.

“I know,” Blaine agrees. “What am I going to do with my Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights?”

Blaine had originally signed up for lessons only on Friday nights. That was the Waltz class, the dance Blaine absolutely had to learn by Labor Day. He would have thought that all that time he spent dancing with show choirs in his youth would have engrained the steps permanently into his soul, but too many years behind a desk teaching elementary school kids to play Minuet in D on ¾ size violins have taken the sense of rhythm his feet once had right out of him. One night a week to get it back seemed like a commitment he could make, no problem. But after meeting Kurt, after dancing with him, he signed up for a Wednesday night Foxtrot class, and then after he worked up the nerve, he enrolled in the Monday night Tango class.

Mondays had become, by far, his favorite day of the week.

“Considering how well you dance now, I’m sure you’ll come up with something interesting,” Kurt says with a wink.

It’s a safe tease, Blaine knows, but every time Kurt winks at him, his heart stops for longer than necessary between beats.

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine says, fidgeting with the ends of his scarf, tangling the fringe between his thumb and index finger.

“I told you to call me Kurt,” Kurt says, throwing a playful scolding glance at Blaine as he starts switching off the studio lights.

“Right,” Blaine says with a chuckle to hide his stomach flips at the thought of calling this beautiful man by his first name. “Kurt. I’ll call you…I’ll call you Kurt.”

Kurt nods, his lips quirking in the corners as he switches off the last set of lights. The darkness isn’t complete, the room and its sole inhabitants illuminated by a single lamp outside on the curb. Seeing Kurt standing in the shadows makes Blaine _want_. From the bottom of his heart, stuttering dangerously out of sync, he longs to rush up to Kurt, take him in his arms, hold him flush against his body, and kiss him.

Kiss him like this is the last night the two of them will ever see.

“Now remember, if you decide that you want to learn the Charleston…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Blaine finishes.

“I hope I am,” Kurt says, leaning in close as he reaches past Blaine for his own coat hanging on the wall. “It’s a great class for couples.”

Blaine swallows hard.

 _Couples_. It was such an innocent comment, but it’s such a tempting proposition.

Kurt walks with Blaine out of the studio, pausing on the stoop with key ring in hand to lock the multiple bolts on the door. They walk down the three short steps, and when Blaine’s foot hits the street, the sigh that passes through his lips steals the breath from his entire body.

How is he ever going to remember how to breathe if he doesn’t see Kurt again?

“Come on,” Kurt says, opening his arms wide, “give me a hug.”

Blaine waits a second, fighting the urge to throw himself bodily into Kurt’s arms. He manages the hug part fine, but he can’t seem to keep himself from holding Kurt tighter than normal for a friendly hug.

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt says with a warm chuckle, “you’re trembling. Are you nervous?”

“Yes,” Blaine breathes against Kurt’s cheek. “Yes, I am.”

Kurt is the first to let go. Blaine’s fingers refuse. Even as Kurt takes a step away, Blaine’s fingertips lightly trail over Kurt’s shoulders and down his arms, needing to stay connected, not ready to say good-bye to him.

“Don’t worry,” Kurt says, holding Blaine at arm’s length and giving him a small smile. “I promise, you’re going to blow everyone away at your wedding.”

Kurt pats Blaine on the arm reassuringly, then turns and walks away. Blaine doesn’t leave and he doesn’t follow. He watches Kurt take off down the sidewalk, heading for the subway, never once turning around to look back. Kurt disappears down the steps to catch his train, and the glimmer that sparks in Blaine’s eyes whenever he sees Kurt - a glimmer that has been steadily dying as Blaine counted down to this day - finally goes out.


	2. You Lead, I'll Follow

Blaine stands stock still for a solid minute after Kurt disappears into the subway. The wind races underneath his coat, and a shiver chases it down his back. The heat in his body starts to leave him – a heat that Kurt put there with his arm around Blaine's waist during their dances, and through the hand that held his. Blaine begins to walk, but not in the direction he came. Not towards home. He walks straight ahead to the subway terminal, following the footsteps of his dance teacher, the way he always did, the way he has become accustomed to doing. Blaine needs to tell Kurt something, even if he doesn't know exactly what yet. There’s something important pressing inside his brain, cramming against his skull - something he knows will become clear when he lays eyes on Kurt again…and it can't wait.

Blaine breaks into a sprint when he hears the train pull in. Even above ground and a few feet away, he hears the conductor calling out the stop, and the alarm that signals the closing of the train doors, all before his foot touches the top step. By the time he rushes down the stairwell, the whoosh of air that comes with the departure of the train hits him full force. It blows back his coat, throws dust into his face, and Blaine has to stop a moment to shield his eyes. When the wind dies down, Blaine continues on, but it's too late. The train is gone, and Blaine knows that Kurt is gone, too, on his way back to Bushwick.

Blaine slows his steps but he doesn't stop. He has to check and make sure, has to see with his own eyes that the platform is empty or he'll never be able to leave the subway station and get on with his life.

Blaine is three steps from the bottom when he sees him, standing at the yellow line, staring straight ahead.

"Kurt?"

Kurt's head snaps to the side to look at Blaine, his mouth hanging open in surprise. He definitely hadn't expected to see Blaine again so soon. He isn't prepared. He doesn't have time to readjust the expression on his face, and Blaine can tell by his tear-stained cheeks and his slightly runny nose that he's been crying.

"Oh! Blaine!" Kurt wipes away tears with shaking fingers. "Why are you…I didn't know you took this subway. I thought you lived uptown."

"I do…live uptown, that is." Blaine walks slowly over to Kurt, giving him time to get composed. "I just…I needed to ask you a question." Blaine points down the tunnel. "Did you miss your train?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess I did," Kurt chuckles, nodding and sniffling, reaching in his pocket for a tissue. "Was that your question?"

"No." Blaine walks a step closer, fishing a packet of tissues from his pocket and handing them over. "I actually had a question about the Viennese Waltz we did a week ago."

Kurt accepts the tissues with a warm but tremulous smile, his brow furrowing.

"You have a question about _that_?" Kurt asks, separating a single tissue from the rest and patting beneath his eyes. "But, you did that waltz perfectly. In fact, that was the one dance you picked up off the bat."

"I know," Blaine says, voice shaking with nerves, "but I still have a question."

Kurt looks at Blaine, blue eyes wet with tears shining over the edge of his Kleenex, assessing how serious Blaine really was.

"Please," Blaine pleads, hands folded in front of him. "It's really important. I promise."

Kurt watches Blaine bounce a little on his feet, his eyes wide and playful, too adorable for words, and _it_ wins Kurt over.

"I guess I've got some time until the next train arrives." Kurt glances around at the empty platform. "Did you want to ask me here, or did you want to go back up to my studio?"

"Uh, your studio, if you don't mind." Blaine decides to take a risk, and in his chest, his heart starts up again.

"Let's go then." Kurt smiles, tilting his head in the direction of the staircase. He carefully puts the used tissue in his pocket and offers Blaine the remainder, which Blaine politely waves away.

"You keep them," Blaine says. "Just in case you need them again."

They walk in silence up the stairs and the short distance to the studio. Kurt has his keys in hand to unlock the door by the time they reach the foot of the steps. He holds the door open for Blaine, and then locks it behind them. He slips off his coat and puts it on the hook, which Blaine takes as a good sign. Kurt is getting comfortable. He's willing to stay a while. Blaine takes his coat off, too, hanging it beside Kurt's.

"So, what was your question?" Kurt asks. He doesn’t switch on the overhead light, letting the light from outside fill the studio with its glow.

To Blaine, it's kind of romantic.

Blaine holds out his hand to Kurt, ducking his eyes underneath his lashes, a shy grin on his lips.

"Would you dance with me?"

Kurt looks at Blaine's hand outstretched and swallows lightly.

"Did you seriously ask me back here to dance with you?" Kurt asks. For a second, Blaine thinks Kurt might get angry at him for keeping him from his train, or for wasting his time.

"Yes," Blaine replies plainly, doing his best to appear confident while he bites his tongue hard to keep from apologizing, backpedaling, walking out of the studio and never looking back.

Kurt stares at Blaine's hand a second longer, his face indecipherable, and yet, the confusion in his eyes very clear.

"Alright." Kurt's eyes flick up to meet Blaine's gaze. "But just…give me a second."

Kurt walks across the dance floor to the stereo in the corner. He chooses a song, and when it starts, Blaine notices within the first four notes that Kurt didn't put on a waltz.

"I hope you'll forgive my song selection," Kurt says, walking back over to Blaine, who’s pleasantly stunned when the first subtle strains of _At Last,_ sung in Etta James's sultry alto, hits the air. "I know it's not appropriate for the waltz, but…" Kurt's eyes drift up to Blaine's face and he smiles, "I thought maybe you wouldn't mind the change?"

Kurt says it like a question, but he really isn't asking. He knows that Blaine didn't come back to discuss waltzes. Truthfully, Kurt had kind of hoped Blaine would come back. It was a long shot, and when the train pulled away without him on it, for about thirty seconds, he felt like a fool. He was going to stand on that platform alone for an additional forty-five minutes. He was going to get to his apartment late, and the only living creature in the world who would notice or care would be his cat, Verve, pissed because he missed his dinner.

Kurt slips his hand into Blaine's and does a half-spin into his embrace. Blaine smiles at the man in his arms, who adjusts their stance so Blaine can lead, though it doesn't really matter who leads and who follows this time. That immediate feeling of safety and comfort rolls through Blaine's body. If he ever had a doubt that this is where he belongs, that this is where he should be, those doubts get squashed and shoved away.

"Can I ask you another question?" Blaine asks hesitantly, almost unwilling to break the silence, but he holds on tight to this moment they have in case it doesn't come around again, in case this is where it ends.

"You're full of questions today, aren't you?" Kurt laughs uneasily. "Sure. Go ahead."

Blaine bounces back and forth between questions in his head, but settles on the most important one – the one he thinks can answer all his questions at once.

"Why were you crying? On the platform?"

Kurt drops his head and sighs.

"I can't tell you," he says, regaining his impeccable posture.

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't change anything. Because…" Kurt takes a deep breath in and lets it out. "Because you're getting married."

Kurt's answer doesn't just confirm Blaine's suspicions. It takes his breath away.

"To tell you the truth" - Blaine comes to his confession apprehensively, and he hopes, tactfully - "I'm having second thoughts. I actually have been for a while."

"Well, that's convenient, isn't it?" Kurt snaps, bitter, his back becoming rigid, unyielding in Blaine's arms. Blaine knows he's struck a nerve, but he can't stop now. _Last chance_ , he thinks. He'll regret it if he doesn't at least try.

"It's actually really not convenient," Blaine says sincerely, his eyes not leaving Kurt's face for a second no matter how many times Kurt's eyes dart uncomfortably away. "In fact, some days I wish I could just go along with this wedding and make everybody happy, and _be_ happy about it myself, but it's getting harder and harder."

Kurt drops his defensive attitude at Blaine's change in tone.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says. "I didn't mean to sound angry. I may have some experience with broken engagements." Blaine nods, feeling bad for pressing him. "You know, a lot of people get cold feet before their wedding. But they love each other, they get married, and it all irons itself out."

"I thought about that, Kurt, but what's wrong between Dave and me, it's been going wrong for a while now," Blaine admits. "I think…I think I proposed to him to try and make things better, but in a lot of ways, it made them worse. Besides, that's not what weddings should be for."

Kurt doesn't comment right away, letting Blaine's words settle in his brain before he speaks.

"But how do you know?" he asks. "How do you know your marriage isn't going to work?"

"Dave and I have been together forever…since high school, and even with all our problems, I seriously thought he was the only person who was ever going to love me." Kurt gasps softly, squeezing Blaine's shoulder where his hand rests on it. "But just as I was giving up hope that there was somebody else who might be a better match for me, something incredible happened."

"What?" Kurt leans in curiously, thoroughly invested in Blaine's answer. "What happened?"

"Well, eight weeks ago…I walked into your studio…"

Kurt bites his lip and focuses his gaze out the window, his cheeks blushing rose. He pinches his lip hard to keep from smiling, but he can't stop, and it's beginning to make his cheeks hurt.

"You know, the only reason why I thought I was safe from you was because you were engaged," Kurt says. "What am I supposed to do about you now?"

"You could, maybe, consider giving me a chance?" Blaine asks, trembling at how much closer Kurt has gotten, that the hand resting on his shoulder has wrapped completely around his torso, and the hand in his holds on tight.

"This is ridiculous, you know." Kurt shakes his head. "I mean, we've only known each other, what, a little more than a month? Maybe two?"

"True," Blaine agrees, his heart racing at the thought that Kurt might consider a relationship with him, that after all these weeks of pining and daydreaming, this man he has a crush on (and yes, it's a good, old-fashioned, honest to God crush), could become his, "but, if I didn't feel like there could be something between us, I wouldn't even think about imposing on you. I wouldn't ask you to give me a shot, especially under the circumstances."

Kurt's smile grows wider, which seems impossible since it already reaches his ears.

"I can't believe I'm actually going along with this." Kurt giggles. "Just, please tell me you guys…"

"We postponed the wedding," Blaine cuts in, "pretty much indefinitely. Weeks ago…when my fiancé moved out."

"So you guys really have been talking this over, huh?" Kurt asks, not sounding entirely convinced to Blaine.

"It's not just our feelings for each other," Blaine explains. "We both want different things out of life. He got a job offer in Chicago, one that he's always wanted, and he took it without talking with me first. But my dreams are here in New York – always have been. And then there's children…"

"What about children?" Kurt asks nervously, knowing that this could make or break a relationship, even at the start.

"Well, I…I've always wanted children," Blaine says. "And it seems that Dave…not so much."

Kurt chews on his cheek, trying not to look too relieved.

"I want children someday," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Kurt glances at the clock on the wall.

"You know I've missed my train," he says.

"I'm sorry," Blaine answers.

"And…we've kind of stopped dancing."

Blaine looks at them standing together, arms around each other, foreheads close.

"I hadn't noticed."

Kurt's eyes focus on Blaine's lips as he tips his head forward.

"You know, this probably won't work out," Kurt mutters. "I'll just be a rebound, or you and Dave will realize you're meant for each oth-"

Kurt doesn't finish. Blaine's lips find his, and as much as Kurt detests being cut off, even with a kiss, he can't find it in himself to mind, especially with Blaine's hand on his back pulling him closer, another cupping his face, his thumb brushing across his cheek. Blaine starts to pull away, but Kurt murmurs _no_ , kissing Blaine back while Blaine tries not to laugh.

"So, does this mean you're willing to give me a chance?" Blaine whispers, breaking away from their kiss only far enough to ask.

"Yes, I'll give you a chance," Kurt says, returning eagerly to Blaine's lips.

 


End file.
